Monday, March 31, 2008

On Saturday we ran into my friend Kate at Zellers. Kate and I went to Ryerson together for magazine publishing, and ever since then both she and her Mom have been avid Super Happy Blog readers. I find it odd whenever this blog appeals to anyone who is not a blood relation, but Kate behaved as if she were running into a celebrity, even pulling out her camera to get a picture of us. I should also give a shout out to Kate's Mom, whom I've never met, but enjoys reading the super happy details of my super happy life . Hi Kate's Mom!

Now that I'm famous enough to have been spotted in the mall, I think it's high time I started merchandising. So all you super happy fans can get some super happy stuff through my cafepress page (previously reserved for atheist apparel). There's a journal pictured below but you can also get t-shirts, bags, and even thong undies.No, I'm not expecting these designs to be popular, and yes, this is more for my amusement than anything else. In any case, you can buy and browse HERE. Also note, because I'm too lazy for price adjustment, I make the same amount whether something is sold for $10 or $30.

Saturday, March 29, 2008

This morning William underwent a procedure known as a "haircut" in which his unkempt baby hair is surgically removed, to be replaced by a grown-up little man do.

To give this event the proper fanfare, we went to a place called Melonhead, a children's salon which looks more like a toy store than a barbershop. Indeed, they do sell toys, and William had us purchase a planet-Earth bouncy ball to commemorate the occasion. The Melonheaders also gave us a certificate with a lock of hair to put in his baby book.

Seeing him with his little man hair fills me with all kinds of cuddly sad mommy feelings. Where did my baby go?

Thursday, March 13, 2008

Well no sooner had our offer been rejected for that other house when Basha sent us another listing. It's a bit more expensive, but still "in our price range" and holy Laforge is it ever gorgeous. If you look closely at the pic, you'll note the fancy bay windows and the über-expensive-looking front door. Well the inside's even nicer, all done up in a sort of rustic look (in a good way, not in an "it's so old an falling apart it's rustic" way). Someone poured their heart into decorating this place, someone with far more time, money, and decorating skills than I. Plus, there's an above-ground pool (or, more accurately, a mound of snow in the shape of a pool).

So we put an offer in. (Our second time bidding on a house in two days). And, this time, we won! Let the poverty begin!

Tuesday, March 11, 2008

Our realestate agent/friend of the family, Basha (Barbara to non-Polish people) has been sending us Burlington listings "in our price range". (By "in our price range" I mean that we'd be incredibly house-poor and have to give up some luxuries, but would have enough to scrape together enough money to own the house in 40 years). So yesterday we got sent a listing of a cute, 3-bedroom, one-floor semi at a ridiculously low price, well, ridiculously low for Burlington anyway.

We immediately arranged to see it and were surprised to find that, despite it's reasonable price, the house was not falling apart at the seams (although the several of the doors on the main level had what might have been fist holes in them, and the basement was a half-way done construction project). There were also fun features like a ramp leading up to the front door (very stroller friendly) and a My-Big-Fat-Greek-Weddingish proximity to my parents' house.

Right away we made an offer. Even though the house had only been listed for a day (it didn't even have a for sale sign up yet), five other people had already looked at the place and there was one other offer already on the table. So we sat down with our agent and made our offer as juicy as possible, offering a few thousand over asking price, letting the seller keep all their appliances, and even omitting any conditions about selling our place first (though we left enough time in the closing to offset that).

So Basha went off with her boxing gloves on and came back with the news that they wanted us to close the deal way earlier, like April. This being March, we couldn't be sure that we could sell our place in time, so instead we tried throwing another couple thousand at them (hey, it's the bank's money anyway right?) But, alas, these people were apparently in a huge hurry to get rid of their house and they didn't bite. So now we're stuck in our condo until another miracle listing comes along and someone else is moving into our house!

Monday, March 03, 2008

Every once in a while, my husband and I amuse ourselves by pretending that we can afford a house. Not just any house, mind you, I have standards:

1) The house must have at least one more bedroom than we have now. Moving into a place that is the same size as our condo just seems redundant. Also, William will one day need a sibling and that kid will want her or his own bedroom. (hypothetical children are so demanding!)

2) The house must be in Burlington. Sure, I know we can afford a house in Nunavut for six bucks and change, but then I'd have to learn a whole new city. I have such a bad sense of direction that even a quaint inuit village would be intimidating for me to navigate. I'll stick to the place I've lived since I was six, thank you very much. The housing is more, but both my parents and inlaws live here, so we'll save a bundle on babysitters.

3) The house must be just slightly less expensive than the cheapest house in Burlington. And without condo fees.

We've been eyeballing a few properties and even went to the bank this afternoon for a reality check/mortgage consultation. If we buy a house/any deals fall through, I'll post more details, but I'm pretty sure it's a bad carma to tell the entire internet which houses you're looking at. You have to pretend you're not really interested or they'll jack up the price. (I guess, but what do I know about buying and selling realestate? The only place I ever bought was off of my alzeimerish grandmother. Plus I always, always, lose at monopoly).